


I Dreamt of You

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9907817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean finds something (or someone) he thought he'd lost.Very fluffy. With a bit of angst. I'm new at this, can you tell?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is canon-divergent and takes place at the beginning of Season 8. So let's just assume that none of the icky stuff afterwards actually happened and everyone just gets to be happy forever.

Dean was dreaming again. He was sitting on the dock where he’d sat years ago, when Cas had appeared to him and tried to help him.

It was a bittersweet memory - more bitter than sweet, nowadays - Dean reflects, as he gazes over the water.

He was deep in thought. So he can’t be blamed for not noticing when Cas appears behind him in a flurry of wingbeats, and for jumping in alarm when the angel speaks. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean asks, incredulous, “You were in Purgatory!”

The angel looks down at him. “I still am.”

Dean feels foolish. He should have known this was too good to be true. And, after a second look, he notices that Cas looks nothing like the dirty, unshaven mess he'd been in Purgatory. He looks just as he had when they'd first met, which of course only made Dean ache more.

“How are you here?” Dean forces himself to say. It sounds strangled.

“I believe I am still able to access your dreams due to our profound bond.”

Dean grins, despite himself. Because it’s Cas. And dream or not, it’s better than nothing. “Alright, Cas - why are you here?”

Cas steps forward slowly, gaze becoming serious. “I wanted to tell you,” he says as he walks, “that it wasn't you who couldn't save me.”

Before he can ask, Dean feels the familiar press of two fingers to his forehead and gasps as the memory returned to him. His heart clenches as he watches Cas let go of his hand and shout “Go!”

Dean opens his eyes and sees Cas still staring at him intently. “It wasn't you who couldn't save me,” he repeats, “It was I who didn't want to be saved.”

Dean clears his throat, finding it hard to speak. “Why, Cas? Why did you let go?”

But Cas was gone.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean shouts uselessly at the sky, “Why did you let go?”

****************************************************************************************************  
The second time it happens, Dean is driving down a highway in the Impala. It seems so real that his heart skips a beat when he catches sight of Cas in the backseat. Until he realizes this is a dream, and tries to swallow his disappointment.

Cas smiles at him sadly, like he knows exactly what Dean is thinking. Which, Dean realizes, he probably does. The bastard.

“Why did you let go?” Dean asks.

“Because I didn't deserve to be freed,” Cas says, still smiling that soft, sad smile of his.

“That's bull,” Dean says tiredly, “No one deserves to be stuck in that God-awful place.”

“I had to stay. As penance for my sins.”

“What's the big deal? You were trying to do the right thing.”

“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, Dean.”

Dean runs a hand through his hair. He’s way, way too sober for this shit. “When are you coming back?” He tries.

Cas hesitates. “Soon,” he replied, finally.

Which is no help at all, because “soon” can mean a day or a year or a century. But when Dean turns to say so, he’s met with nothing but empty air.

****************************************************************************************************  
The third time it happens, Dean is prepared. He's in a diner with a plate of pancakes piled in front of him. He waits and sure enough, the angel wooshes in to sit across from him. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas. When are you coming back?”

Cas shakes his head. “Soon.”

Every time Cas appears in one of Dean’s dreams, Dean asks the same question. And every time, Cas gives him the same one-word answer. Eventually Dean stops asking and starts to talk about other things, like their hunts or the Bunker or some other mundane point of his existence.

Cas seems to love hearing about Dean, and Dean likes seeing Cas smile. So he talks. He finds himself looking forward to falling asleep so he can talk to Cas. Their meetings are now a something of a regular occurrence.

Until one day, they aren’t.

****************************************************************************************************  
“Cas!” Dean shouts at the sky for the hundredth time. “Castiel! Where are you, you asshole?”

It’s been a week. An entire fucking week and he hasn't heard anything, not even a peep, from Cas.

“Cas,” Dean whispers, voice hoarse from shouting (how did that even make sense, if he was in a dream?), “please be okay, man.”

“I'm here, Dean.” The voice is tired.

Dean turns to face the angel. His clothes are ragged, and every inch of him is covered in blood and dirt.

Without realizing it, Dean has been walking toward Cas. Now they are almost nose to nose, with Dean’s hands on the other man’s shoulders. (Personal space, a part of him mocks, but he’s always done a pretty good job of ignoring that part). “Never fucking do that again, Cas. Never again.” Logically, he knew that it’s far from Cas’ fault, that the angel had probably been on the run from every monster in Purgatory. But then again, Dean Winchester had never been logical.

Cas just smiles at him and, in lieu of an answer, tilts his head up to meet Dean’s lips.

Kissing Cas is exactly like what Dean thinks kissing someone in a storm might be like. Even through the coppery blood and sweat, Cas tastes like wind and rain and lightning. I love you, Dean thinks, I love you so fucking much.

He doesn’t say it then, but he knows Cas understands. Because there are some things you can't go through with another person without falling in love.

Instead, Dean pulls away and looks into Cas’ eyes. He can see a tiny flicker of doubt in them, and it’s so fucking adorable all Dean wants is to kiss it away. But not yet. “Cas,” Dean says, breathless, “When are you coming home?”

“I'll come home to you, Dean,” Cas promises, and the words sound like music to Dean. “I'm on my way now.”

****************************************************************************************************  
When Cas appears in the dining room as Sam and Dean are having breakfast a few days later, Sam is so startled that he spills his bowl of cereal. And Dean can't even bring himself to care, because he's so damn happy.

Dean jumps up and all but runs toward the angel - his angel. Their mouths meet again and it's even better than the first, because Cas is safe and here and his and if this is a dream Dean never wants to wake up.

“Love you,” Dean whispers against Cas’ lips, “So damn much.”

He can feel Cas smiling. “Of course you know I love you, Dean,” the angel returns.

And yeah, Dean knows. But there’s a very large difference between knowing something and hearing it, and hearing the words from Cas’ lips is infinitely better than knowing them. Without hesitation, Dean swoops back in and claims the angel’s lips for his own.

Dean finally pulls away when Sam clears his throat. “So,” the younger Winchester says, voice way too smug for Dean’s liking, “What did I miss?”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering how exactly Cas got out of Purgatory, I have no clue. Go ahead and make something up if you want - I didn't intend for that to be the focus of the story.
> 
> Reviews are treasured gold.


End file.
